


Cat's Paw

by CowboysandPanties



Category: Mumintroll | Moomins Series - Tove Jansson
Genre: First Time, M/M, Parent/Child Incest, minor gore, there's a fishing hook that gets lodged into snufkin's finger but thats it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-11
Updated: 2019-08-11
Packaged: 2020-08-18 22:11:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20199007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CowboysandPanties/pseuds/CowboysandPanties
Summary: Snufkin is fishing when he has an accident, a silly mistake that attracts a larger problem.





	Cat's Paw

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! This is my second Joxkin fic for a friend! I really hope you enjoy reading, there is some gore at the very beginning but everything after that is consensual and loving I swear :)
> 
> THIS IS SNUFKIN AND JOXTER. FUCKING. If you DO NOT LIKE IT don't be a fucking idiot and read it.
> 
> Also, I ended up not proofreading so I'm sorry for any mistakes :(((

The lips of Snufkin’s torn open wound caught the sharp tackle tightly, a ferocious bite that wouldn’t let go easily. He made no show of being in pain or even uncomfortable, simply taking in a breath and setting his fishing rod down, examining his finger. Blood trailed down into the riverbank before washing away into the stream, perhaps attracting the nastier breeds of fish. The barb was lodged deep into the last digit of his forefinger, hooked deep within the flesh just as purposed- although not meant for catching Snufkins, of course. He didn’t have any spare fishing line to try and help remove it, and it was too early to go ask Moominpapa to spare a pair of plyers. He neither had a clue as to whether Snork was awake at this hour, only the tiniest shimmer of light on the horizon giving clue to morning rounding the corner.

Snufkin twisted the shank back at the best angle he could get, not wanting to waste another moment of peaceful fishing bliss on such a tedious thing. Sucking in a breath he yanked the fish hook back as quick as possible, clenching his jaw and letting out a sharp whine as the skin ripped free, blood spitting in an ugly frenzy. The young Snufkin sat back, pacing his breaths as he tossed the hook away to the side, holding his hand and looking down at the gnarled flesh. A foolish mistake he shouldn’t have made; Snufkin could fish for longer than he could remember, but as the wine-red blood fell from his feeble hand like a waterfall, Snufkin felt like a loser.

A loser that forgot blood not only attracted fish.

With a regretful sigh Snufkin stood, figuring that if he wanted to continue fishing then he would have to patch this up the best he could. Washing his clothes would be necessary too, he wouldn’t want to startle the moomintrolls next time they saw him. What a fit Moomin would throw. 

The wind rolled by with a warm breeze, the smell of carcasses heavy on his tongue and rough in his lungs. 

“Oh, it was you.” An airy tone sang a flat tune.

Snufkin turned, his hand nestled against the front of his garb, covered by the other one. “Joxter, it’s rather early for you to be up and about. You rarely visit the moomintrolls.” Snufkin called, a little bewildered by the rare company. This Joxter, a father of his, was a rather wild and venturesome kind despite being so lazy. “The Moomins aren’t early risers either, it’d be best to come back later.” Snufkin turned, walking back to his tent. He figured the conversation was over, words were said and departure imminent. Joxter had not been so inclined; however, and the two taciturn beings were thrown into talks. 

“That smell, dear Snufkin, I’m correct aren’t I?” Joxter leaned down in front of the tent, peaking through the open slot and watching as Snufkin bunkered down inside, pulling out a container. “I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Snufkin popped the lid off and dug out gauze along with a paste he had learned to make when he was young and rambunctious. Joxter’s tail whipped back and forth, curling with a question. “Oh why Snufkin, we couldn’t be so far apart that your nose…” He brought one fur-covered finger to the tip of his nose, “is not as aware as a Joxter’s nose?” Snufkin crudely applied a layer of the clear- yellowish paste before wrapping it up as neatly as he could. When he finished, he looked up at Joxter, the man smiling an uneasy smile. Snufkin thought they were done, surely his father wouldn’t make time to lecture him on smells after being away for his whole life. 

“Now Snufkin, what was that there?”

“That what.” Snufkin’s face was plain and the question came out stumped and bored. Joxter didn’t seem to mind as he eyes the edging of the tent as if contemplating. “You treat your wounds so… awkwardly.” He dipped his head into the tent, dark fur contrasting the light sheet. “How is it that a grown Snufkin can’t lick his own wounds properly?” Snufkin’s blank face didn’t hold up long, his brows furrowing in a confused manner. “That’s to disinfect it and help it heal, it would get infected, otherwise.” Snufkin wondered how Joxter could live this long if he thought a scrape needed dirt in it instead of medicine. 

The young Snufkin tucked the tub away for another day, examining his finger one more time to deem whether or not he could use it without hurting it further. Joxter cooed softly, a rumble purring up his throat. “A father should teach his bumbling son how to take care of himself.” Snufkin glanced up, wondering where Joxter’s sudden urge to be a father had come from. “Let papa fix you… I’ll tend to that blood-soaked, irony wound.” Joxter ducked in the rest of the way, having to bend forward not to disrupt the tent. “I already fixed it.” Snufkin looked at him with bewilderment, trying to get through his stubbornly thick skull. Joxter’s lips pulled into what looked like a sneer, yellow canines sharp and shiny even in the dim, unlit tent. Dark hands made their way into Snufkin’s garbs, a long nose like his own ducked down in his collar bone. Snufkin fell onto his rear, knees buckling as his elbows jerked back to catch himself. “Little Snufkin… How did this Snufkin open his skin?” Whiskers caught on his coat until they met the thin skin of his lower neck. “Finicky little thing…” He mumbled into him, tail slowly dragging bag and forth, occasionally knocking into Snufkin’s knees. 

“I was fishing.” Snufkin replied curtly, pushing at Joxter’s bony shoulders and grunting as the taller Mumrik didn’t budge. “Fishing? Mmm… Let me imagine…“ Joxter pushed down against his son, eyes dark and raw. Snufkin gagged from the stench of being so close to Joxter. He knew he himself wasn’t the most pleasant of fragrant things, but Joxter was on a whole different level. “Did a fish… a cunning little fish, no… a cunning big fish, catch you?” He snickered hotly into Snufkin’s neck, making the air between them humid and uncomfortable. Joxter wriggled his hips snuggly against the other’s as he leaned up, grabbing the appendage Snufkin was trying to hide and care for. “No, I wasn’t that careless.” Snufkin let out unpleasant noises as he tried to pull his hand away without harming himself. “Oh? Then what could have harmed my smart, cunning, witty, wise Snufkin?” Joxter rolled his jaw, the smell of rot filling Snufkin’s nose. Pressing his hand against Joxter’s face, Snufkin pushed the offending stench away. “The barb went through my finger is all. I was dealing with it rather finely until you showed up.” The smallest hint of snark made its way out, spilling over his words. 

A stray hand cradled Snufkin’s side as the other splayed his fingers out, palm flat against the offender’s. Joxter made crude little noises as he inspected the smaller paw, no hair, no claws, looked almost nothing like his own. It was disappointing, really. The thick fingers weaved into his side with varying pressure, bringing a pleasurable feeling Snufkin didn’t expect. “Joxter, stop it.” He muttered, unsure of what else to say to get the strange Mumrik off of him. Large blue eyes stared into his, unblinking and unnerving as if they unwove his very being. Snufkin couldn’t help but let his muscles relax, tension leaving his body. Joxter curled his lips in a feral sort of way and leaned down, tenderly catching all of Snufkin’s earlier work between his chipped teeth. He tugged the gauze away, rubbing against the wound and aggravating it. Snufkin hissed and whined, reaching up and tugging hard on a handful of the fur starting at Joxter’s cheek. Dark and light brown fur stood on edge as Joxter’s eyes bore into Snufkin’s, a silent stare as he held the reddened gauze between his teeth. Snufkin let out the quietest of gasps, body stiffening up as he stared back, hand still clutching his father’s cheek fur. “Snufkin.” Joxter’s raspy voice came out lesser than a whisper, the cloth falling from his rotting mouth. Snufkin could see the faintest of red stains on his teeth, wondering how much of it seeped into his tongue. The fact that his blood had alone called Joxter to him was unsettling enough, now that it was in his mouth he wasn’t sure what that meant. 

In a panic Snufkin turned, trying to crawl away from Joxter and make it out of the tent. He wasn’t sure where he would run, but he had to get away. Joxter grunted and grabbed him by the shoulder and hip, twisting him around once again before sitting firmly on his stomach. Snufkin groaned in discomfort, pushing at his papa’s hips and squirming to get away. “Joxter- let me go! Leave me be!” He hissed, scrunching his eyes shut and turning his head as the Joxter’s knees pushed into his armpits. A quiet trill followed the jerk of Snufkin’s injured hand, dark paws once again splaying out thin fingers. “Ooooh…” Joxter clicked his tongue as he admired the reopened wound covered in dried, crusty blood. The paste from earlier almost made it look sickly, adding yellow tones to dark, flushed red skin. “Now look at this, had I not come to you, I mean- had you not called out to me… Who knows what would have happened. An ill Snufkin is a dead Snufkin, after all.” Joxter’s voice was thick and heavy. He pulled the hand up to his mouth, pressing lazy kisses to soft knuckles that made Snufkin’s heart stutter. “Let a Joxter show you, such a regal Snufkin, how to treat a wound.” Joxter didn’t wait for an affirmation, parting his pink lips and wrapping them around Snufkin’s open finger. Snufkin gasped and flinched, trying to pull his hand away as saliva dripped into his finger. The sharp, hot pain made him squirm, flustered as he tried to find a way to escape. Joxter let his eyes droop shut, apparently tranquil as he probed the opening with his nimble tongue, pushing and brushing against fat and muscle, the spines of his tongue catching and dragging painfully. 

Hot tears began to build up as Snufkin felt pain like no other before. His nails dug into his father’s arm as he tried to keep quiet, unsure whether sounds of distress would provoke him. Joxter moaned around his finger, a smile cracking his skin as he went from rough, ruthless movements to comforting, languid broad strokes of his tongue. Snufkin felt sick at the attention, knees kicking up into Joxter’s back and trying to dislodge him. 

But minutes went by, the Joxter did not stop. 

Eventually, Joxter thought he had cleaned enough, and with a wet ‘pop’ Snufkin’s finger fell from his lips, falling to the flat ground beneath them both. Snufkin was panting softly, eyes watery and face painted in a blotchy red. Joxter cackled, lowering himself and scooting his body down so he laid over his one and only Snufkin. His soft paws found purchase on Snufkin’s smooth cheeks, not a hair in sight. Joxter leaned in, running his lips over the warmth and littering kisses. He should have felt this when they were younger, when he was supposed to have been there for him as a father. Joxter knew this but didn’t find a reason to hold onto such nasty things. If he had lacked in such a primal state of Snufkin’s life, he’d simply have to make up for it in his own little Joxter way. Snufkin reached up to place his hands on Joxter’s face, not bothering to push, but desperate to create a layer between them. The Joxter was content, rubbing his fur and whiskers against the offered, smooth palms. 

All this stimulation was simply too much for Snufkin. His finger hurt, his stomach was twisted in a knot, and his ribs ached from where his father had sat. “Leave, Joxter.” He tried one more time, eyes hazy and unfocused. “Why? Does a Snufkin really want to be all lonesome?” His dark nose wormed its way through Snufkin’s only defense, his petite hands, and bright blue eyes shimmered. “After all, what could give a Snufkin greater company than a Joxter?” His hands groped up and down Snufkin’s sides as if the clothing weren’t even there. Snufkin wasn’t sure how to answer him, he had only himself most of his life besides the occasional passerby he met on his travels. 

Joxter lowered his head, glad when defeated hands parted to the sides and fingertips kissed his shoulders. His eyes gleamed with joy, lids droopy as he inched down into Snufkin’s personal space normally off-limits to everyone. Snufkin sucked in a slow breath, skin covered in goosebumps as the warm musk of Joxter’s face entwined with his own heat. “Joxter.” Snufkin’s throat felt dry, unsure of what he was even calling for. Hands parted his body like pliant sand, unraveling the yellow scarf around his neck and pulling it free. The air chilled Snufkin’s neck, making him shiver and the Joxter chuckled with a smirk. 

“Let me in, Snufkin.” Joxter coaxed, lips grazing the smaller Mumrik’s chin, making his chest grow tight. “Let a Joxter undo you.” His hand traveled down the middle of Snufkin’s chest, lingering around his waist as his lips pressed up against smaller, plumper ones. 

There was a loud thudding sound in Snufkin’s ears, deafening almost. His throat closed up and his fingers itched with sweat. Joxter closed the space between their bodies, heat swapping back and forth like a plague but sickeningly warm and cozy. Snufkin’s face twitched as they stayed solid against each other, lips feeling rather odd and brain turning fuzzy. Joxter groaned lowly, voice raspy as he moved his lips slowly as to not disturb the Snufkin. Their hips ground together, making Snufkin let out a startled sound and squeeze his eyes shut as if he were about to get hit. “Move, Snufkin,” Joxter rasped against his lips, followed by a hot breath fanning against his paling face. “Move with me.” His eyes slipped shut and he kissed him more, pressing just a bit harder and arms pulling Snufkin in close like a musty, moldy blanket. Snufkin grunted, knees pressing tightly against Joxter’s hips as he moved his arms to wrap around Joxter’s tan neck, the greasy strands of hair poking him. The Snufkin couldn’t help but comply.

His hips twitched up against the other’s, a soft moan spilling from his lips as he gripped Joxter tighter. “Ah… Wait- Joxter,” Snufkin sucked in a sharp inhale through his nose, the air feeling humid as he choked on Joxter’s breath. Snufkin found himself lost in the other, heart pounding as hands, or for Joxter, paws dipped and removed clothing. Joxter’s paws were groping Snufkin’s bare chest, drawing moans from the younger Mumrik. Joxter drank every sound in, dipping his tongue in his son’s hot, wet mouth. Snufkin whined as his pantaloons were rubbed near raw. Joxter hadn’t worn anything under his own dirty and torn outfit, his dripping cock nestled in the front of Snufkin’s undergarment. Snufkin let out a sigh when they parted, chest huffing as he looked down, put off by the throbbing cock in his lap. “Joxter… What are you…?” A warm, furry paw cupped his cheek, guiding his eyes back up. “Lend me a hand, will you?” Joxter whispered, holding his hand out, palm facing up. Snufkin realized that he was quite literal with his question after a few breaths, gently resting his wrist on the open hand. Joxter pulled down the pale pantaloons with his free hand, tossing them back half-hazardly, without a care like always. Snufkin held back a protest, his own cock was half hard and red, aching to be touched. Joxter guided the hand he held between Snufkin’s legs but kept eye contact. “You see, fur doesn’t feel especially nice on such erogenous areas of skin… Nor do claws, I’ve learned.” Joxter manipulated Snufkin’s hand to curl delicately around the sensitive organ. “But with your soft, kind and talented hands,” Joxter’s hand was mimicking the pose but over Snufkin’s hand, effectively sandwiching the appendage. He held on firmly before making small stroking motions with Snufkin’s hand, making the younger let out a stutter breath and gasp as he was guided to jerk himself off. “We’ll make do just nicely,” Joxter promised in a hushed tone, leaning down to kiss along Snufkin’s face as he panted and whined, muscles clenching and unclenching. 

“Relax now, Snufkin. You act like pleasure is such a pain, let go and give in to the Joxter, won’t you?” He rested his forehead against the other’s, blue eyes wide open to take in every twitch of muscle and release of newfound expressions. It was truly rare to see a Snufkin like this. The young Mumrik’s hips twitched and jerked, even though their hands were slow his nerves felt like they were on fire- bolts of lightning shooting up his spine and flooding his brain. Joxter snickered, eyeing the erect nipples that looked sweet enough to eat. Giving in to temptation (not like he put up a fight to) Joxter leaned down, pressing his tongue down flat on Snufkin’s lower right breast before slowly dragging up. Snufkin cried out, back arching and legs jerking, his free hand digging into the Joxter’s back, mindful of the wounded finger, as the little papillae dragged against the sensitive tissue. “J-ha..x…ter..” Snufkin moaned and stuttered, trying to focus on not cumming after only a bare minute of this. The Joxter pressed a kiss to the hard nipple before wrapping his lips around the bud and sucking, eyes closed as he fastened the pace of their hands. Snufkin visibly flinched, hips stuttering up to meet every stroke and legs almost trembling. Joxter purred against him, the fur on his chest tickling Snufkin’s pale stomach. With a quiet ‘pop’ Joxter pulled off of the nipple, dragging his tongue up Snufkin’s chest until he met his chin before crashing their lips together once more. Snufkin let out a muffled moan, eyes closed as he kissed back, brain scrambled from the combined sensations. His hips rocked up, his own hand fumbling as he stroked himself harder even without the older Mumrik’s aid. The coil in his stomach was burning, a high of pleasure sloshing around in him like liquid ecstasy- and just as he was about to reach the peak Joxter grabbed his hand and pulled him off- his hips bucking into the air but receiving no contact. Snufkin backed up from the kiss, eyes opening and a look of confusion and betrayal on his face as he panted. Joxter couldn’t help but laugh, wiping a tear from the corner of his eye before he faced the other once again, wishing he could save that look in his memories forever. “Why did you stop?” Snufkin whined softly, hand limp in Joxter’s hold. “I need your hand for another favor if you don’t mind.” Snufkin gave him an incredulous look. “You stopped just to ask that?”

“I wanted to have permission.” The Joxter’s face was loose in a soft smile, even if it still had the remnants of a crazed grin. Snufkin stayed silent to admire the tinges of red of the Joxter’s face and how it spread down his neck to his shoulders and chest. He suddenly felt embarrassed, figuring he must have not looked any better. “Go on then, Joxter.” He nodded, feeling awkward to talk in this situation. He wasn’t sure what the scrawny Mumrik was going to do, but after what just happened he was sure he’d be up for anything. The Joxter raised his and Snufkin’s hands to Snufkin’s mouth. “Put them in your mouth,” he closed the smaller Mumrik’s fingers until there were two left, “I’d do it but… You probably wouldn’t enjoy raw fingers.” He chuckled to himself and Snufkin held back the remark that he apparently didn’t have a problem with it earlier when he was “cleaning” his wound. Joxter raised his eyebrows, bumping Snufkin’s fingers up against his lips. There was a pause before he parted his lips, feeling awkward as Joxter slid his own fingers in his mouth. “Wet them nicely,” Joxter instructed, rubbing his cock along Snufkin’s leg lazily. Of course, he complied, brow furrowing before he lathered his tongue in spit, spreading it on his fingers. It felt rather odd sucking on his own fingers, especially while being so closely watched by Joxter. The smell of putrid stink wasn’t as bothersome as it was before, Snufkin realized as he parted his lips, drool and slobber linking his fingers and tongue. “Just right,” Joxter praised, pressing his lips to Snufkin’s cheek before grabbing his wrist once again and lowering it back between his legs. “Such a pretty Snufkin, so limber and soft.” He cooed against his cheek, alternating between kisses and praises as he pressed one finger against Snufkin’s asshole, flexing the younger Mumrik’s hand to gently press it inside. Snufkin had never touched himself like that before, but as Joxter maneuvered his own finger in and out of himself slowly, he thought he quite liked it. 

Snufkin rolled his hips down tentatively as Joxter guided him, soon the slow pace grew faster and one finger became two. The younger Mumrik’s face was flushed as he moaned and panted, stealing kisses from Joxter as he tried to ground his hips down against his own hand, fingering himself roughly without help from the other. Joxter cradled his face, murmuring, “how good you are… oh so talented and pretty… Little Snufkin you surprise me every time.” His hot breath sent shivers down Snufkin’s spine, hand beginning to ache as he opened himself up further. Eventually, Joxter batted his hand away, urging him to relax flat on his back. He settled squarely over Snufkin, hooking his hands under the other’s knees and carefully craning them up until they sat on his dark, furry shoulders. “Comfortable?” He asked quietly, receiving a nod from his son. “Good, keep them there for me, will you?” Snufkin pursed his lips before nodding once more, hooking his knees in closer and crossing his feet at the ankles. The Joxter gave him a grin, a chaste kiss, before gripping his pale hips and pressing the head of his cock against Snufkin’s ass. He carefully guided himself in, only half an inch in before he checked back in on the other. Snufkin was stiff, not in pain but unsure of the feeling. “Keep going, please.” He begged, still horny out of his mind from earlier, dying to chase the same heat. Joxter gave a toothy grin before complying like a kind Joxter would, slowly pushing more of himself into the tight heat. A heavy sigh came from Joxter, his tail swishing back and forth. “Mmh… Dear Snufkin, you’re wonderful.” Joxter moaned as his eyes closed, breath picking up. Snufkin watched him in awe, reaching up with his good hand to cup the older Mumrik’s cheek, the fur soft against his skin. He pushed his hips down the best he could with his position, sinking just a tad more. The stretch pulled a whine from his throat, the desire to be filled spilling out like a confession. “Joxter… Could you… Could you please move?” He hesitated, though unsure why. Joxter opened his eyes, peering down at dark brown ones. “Move? I wouldn’t think you’d be ready for it yet.”  
“Please, Joxter.”

Joxter’s lips closed before curling into a smile coupled with a dark chuckle. “Of course, my Snufkin, you’ve always been one to impress.” 

With that he pushed the rest of the way in, Snufkin’s toes curling as he let out a moan, voice cracking as air left him. His eyes rolled back until the lids drooped shut, brows furrowed as he moved his hand from his papa’s cheek to his shoulder, squeezing tight. The Joxter pulled out slowly, electricity racing up and down both of their spines, before pushing back in. Snufkin cursed, a whine spilling from his lips as he gripped Joxter hard, cock heavy and hard on his stomach. His pants were loud as Joxter continued this, pace slow and gentle- it drove both of them insane as the tent became nothing but humid and hot. Sweat was building along Joxter’s forehead as he kept his thrusts calm and tender, their stomachs stirring and building with lust. Tears built at the corner of Snufkin’s eyes, lips parted in a broken cry as Joxter tortured him. “J-… Joxter, why won’t you… o-oh please…” His head tilted back, heavy breaths shaking him as he remained immobile with his legs propped up. He wanted to swear every time the thick cock pushed at his insides, rubbing him perfectly but not nearly fast enough to give him what he was craving. Joxter began to grunt and moan softly, paws gripping his hips too tightly- the claws digging in and electing a whine of pleasure Snufkin didn’t expect himself to give. “Who’s fucking you, Snufkin?” He asked, peering eyes open halfway to look at the mess he created below him. Snufkin choked on a moan as hips gently rocked his. “Y-You are.” He confessed, meeting his gaze with his own droopy eyes. It was hot, hotter than the young Mumrik thought it’d be to watch Joxter fuck into him with his legs bent at the shoulder. “And? How does it feel, little Snufkin?”  
“G-Good… It’s so hot, Joxter, I feel like I’m going to run a temperature. You feel so good inside me, but I want you to go faster.” He admitted, blunt nails digging into fur. Joxter grinned, glad he wasn’t the only one who was about to lose it if they didn’t start really going at it. “What about… you though?” Snufkin asked, sweat dripping down his legs. “Me? What a considerate little Mumrik,” Joxter tilted his hips carefully to drag his cock against the roof of Snufkin’s heat, making him cry. “It feels awfully fantastic, you know. Such a hot thing you are, sucking me in when we’ve only begun.” He leaned down, making Snufkin’s legs bend even more and something inside him was rubbed just right, pressing a slow kiss to his lips. “A-Ahh! Joxter, please!!! I’m so… I’m gonna,” Snufkin looked for the right word as he was bent in half, crying against the older Mumrik’s lips as ecstasy blinded him, limbs almost going numb. Joxter slid his tongue between trembling lips, moaning as he tongue fucked his son. Snufkin whined and squirmed, reaching down to stroke himself off- he felt so mind-blowingly close. Joxter grabbed his straying hand and held it above his head, “Now, now… You wouldn’t want to have all the fun now and leave me behind, would you?” He asked after pulling his tongue back from the other’s mouth, eyes gleaming with mischief. “No.” Snufkin answered, breath shaky as he tried to calm himself down. Joxter stopped his hips, wanting to prolong their time together as long as possible, while Snufkin came down from his high. 

After deciding it had been long enough, Joxter began thrusting again. This time it became faster, his hips slapping against the back of Snufkin’s ass. They moaned and kissed as Joxter pounded into Snufkin’s ass, occasionally brushing up against his prostate and hitting farther than he should have been able to, a bulge protruding from the younger’s stomach with each thrust. Snufkin, at this point, was crying. Fat tears rolled down his face as he kissed Joxter, tongues brushing and teeth scraping. He was so close, so close to the best bliss he had ever felt, Joxter was bringing him on the edge as he thrusted harder. Snufkin whined and moaned, legs twitching as he sobbed against his Joxter’s open mouth, mumbling pleas and his name. Joxter grunted, feeling his stomach tighten and coil, he growled into Snufkin’s mouth and fucked him into the ground as his orgasm approached rapidly. Snufkin’s eyes were squeezed shut as he whined, hands scrambling for purchase as he twitched and bucked, dick bouncing against his tummy before cum shot out in ropes. Loud sobs racked his body as Joxter buried his cock balls deep into his ass, cum filling him up. 

With a shaky sigh, Joxter relaxed. His shoulders slumped as he gently lowered Snufkin’s legs, his cock becoming flaccid as he took even breaths. Snufkin gave the occasional twitch, his lips parted as he embraced his pleasure high, body completely limp. Joxter admired the lithe body as he slowly pulled out, feeling proud of the way Snufkin tried to suck him back in and twitch in protest. Furry paws reached out and rubbed up and down Snufkin’s chest, coaxing him to rest. The smaller of the two stared, dark brown eyes warm and soft, filled with affection. Snufkin pulled Joxter in, embracing him and burying his nose into Joxter’s neck. It was warm and comfortable; he felt pleasantly numb and satisfied, eyes droopy as sleep begged him and his finger didn’t bother him anymore. Joxter dressed himself, helping Snufkin put his pantaloons on before curling up with him, groggy and pleased as the sun rose.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you liked it!!! Have a wonderful day/night! Any comments are appreciated :)


End file.
